


Remorse

by Achievelandia



Series: Youtuber Prompts Series [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood, Fake AH Crew, GTA!AU, Gratuitous dirt, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Remorseful Ray, Spanking, dom!Ryan, sub!Ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5588134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achievelandia/pseuds/Achievelandia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is not accustomed to failure, and so when he misses a shot and Ryan gets hurt he feels it's necessary to show Ryan how sorry he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remorse

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this was _"Come over here and make me."_

The job hadn’t gone well, as if that wasn’t the understatement of the century. Ray was good at what he did; he excelled in his work, he was efficient, ruthless and deadly. He had a reputation for being cold and unfeeling when it came to colleagues who weren’t members of the so called ‘Big Six’ of the Crew, but along with that came the one hundred percent success rate that only one other member of the Crew was even close to matching. With this in mind it would seem needless to say that when he finally failed, well… it hit him pretty hard. The mistake hadn’t even been that bad; he had seen so many more things happen with awful consequences — like the time Michael hadn’t been able to get out of the building fast enough and as a result had ended up with third degree burns across most of his left side, or the time that Gavin had screwed the pooch with the intelligence so badly that they had ended up at completely the wrong address with a delivery of narcotics only to realise that it was the Police Chief’s house that they had delivered the drugs to. In all of that, through every other screw up; Ray had never missed a shot, never crashed a car through a barricade, never lost a fist fight, never compromised the safety of the Crew. He was the one they trusted to handle his shit.

The shot that he missed hadn’t been crucial to the job. 

There were no consequences to the bigger picture, and Geoff likely wouldn’t care, except that Ryan got hurt. It wasn’t even marring his perfect record that got to him. It was the fact that if he had missed the second shot, if he had just failed one more time, Ryan wouldn’t be standing before him. If he hadn’t missed the first though… If he hadn’t missed the first then Ryan would be standing before him in one piece. As it was his best friend, his strongest ally, had been shot on his watch. To put it more accurately, because Ray had missed his shot, Ryan had taken a shotgun shell to the shoulder, thankfully at enough distance that he still had an arm.

“God damn it, another fucking jacket for the trash. I should really stop wearing these things.” 

The building was clear, their escape was secured and Ryan was not bothered in the slightest by his wounds. He had certainly taken worse before, he’d taken worse from Geoff for screwing up or going a little crazy, but that wasn’t the point. Not for Ray.

“Ray, get down here, it’s time to go.”

When there was no reply and he didn’t see Ray swinging down from the rafters crowing about being a parkour master he had the distinct feeling that something was wrong, but called for his partner again regardless.

“Ray, buddy, you up there?”

A clattering caught his attention up high and Ray emerged from behind some crates on a high shelving unit, his ridiculous purple hoodie glowing in the darkness. As soon as he laid eyes on Ryan, the blood falling in rivulets down his jacket, his carefully constructed calm disintegrated. Swinging down from the shelves he almost lost his grip multiple times and landed heavy in his haste to get to his friend. 

“Fuck, Ry, I’m so sorry.”

Ryan had never seen Ray dither so much. His hands were shaking as he stared at Ryan’s shoulder, mouth gaping as he tried to figure out something to say to make amends for his poor performance. Ryan simply chuckled.

Ray, it’s not a problem, let’s just go. The car’s waiting.”

It seemed to take a second for Ray to hear what Ryan had said, his reactions delayed as if he was hearing through water. His gaze moved from Ryan’s wounds to his partner’s face, barely even registering his smile as he saw the minute twinges of pain in his expression. He was so focussed on his failure that Ryan had to grab his arm and lead him from the building, piling into the car that was waiting for them and taking a second to be thankful that it was not driven by a member of the B Team like it usually was. Instead Jack’s soft expression met their arrival and she said nothing about the fearful look in Ray’s eyes.

By the time they reached the apartment Ray had calmed somewhat, but he remained close to Ryan as they moved inside and he was thankful that the building was empty of their crew and friends, who were still preoccupied with their parts in the job — he didn’t want them seeing him like this. Following the pair of Gents into the kitchen, he sat close to his friend as Jack left to fetch the first aid kit, his eyes transfixed by the blood now drying in its pattern of rivulets. He had done that, and it felt awful.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled softly, reaching out to place his hand on Ryan’s arm, “Should never have happened.”

Ryan sighed, stripping off his jacket and shirt as Jack returned before turning to Ray, “I told you, it doesn’t matter, Ray. Just forget about it.”

Ryan’s blasé attitude towards his injuries as well as the stress the job had caused him seemed to well over in Ray then, as he jumped to his feet and glared at the older man, “It does matter though, I fucked up and you got hurt. How are you so nonchalant about this shit?!”

Ryan cocked an eyebrow at Ray’s raised voice before explaining his feelings slowly, “I get hurt all the time, Ray. If I got all up tight about it every time then I’d never get anything done.”

On the verge of tears once again, Ray simply shook his head and stormed off, finding solace in his own space. His room was a mess but he didn’t let that bother him as he stripped down and collapsed into his bed, allowing the tears to fall once he knew that nobody was going to come looking for him. A knock on the door roused him some time later and he growled a quick ‘fuck off’ before burying his head in his pillow once more. He didn’t hear the door open behind him.

“Get up, Ray.” Ryan’s voice was hard as he stood above the smaller man.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Ryan.” Ray sounded despondent and didn’t even bother to look at Ryan. The older man stood a couple of feet from his bed, still shirtless with small patches of dried blood staining his flesh around Jack’s professional stitching of his wounds. 

Irritated by Ray’s lack of response, Ryan decided to step up his game, to prove that Ray’s mistake didn’t matter, “Come over here and make me.”

Ray lifted his head to look at Ryan, a questioning look in his eyes, but was soon distracted by his friend’s wounds; the skin was raw and puckered around the stitching, several deep holes that likely contained buckshot only an hour or so ago surrounded by a few glancing blows and a good amount of bruising. It made Ray’s eyes water to think about the pain that he had caused. Standing to face Ryan, Ray stepped closer, touching one of the smaller grazes gently.

“You didn’t shoot me, Ray. Stop fucking moping.”

Ray growled in response, his anger from earlier returning in full force, “How are you not pissed at me?!”

“Would it be easier if I was?” Several thoughts closed Ryan’s mind as ray nodded in response to his question, the most prominent of which he shoved away as quickly as he could; it was not his place to discipline Ray, his friend had done nothing wrong… and yet he clearly felt that he had.

“Would it make you feel better-“ Ryan paused, reluctant, before figuring that he had nothing to loose in this scenario, “-if I punished you?”

Ray’s breath hitched, his eyes locking with Ryan’s, his answer clearly written all over his face. Ryan’s eyes widened as he saw Ray nod almost imperceptibly, surprised that he had read the situation correctly, and even more surprised that Ray would want that kind of thing — he hadn’t pegged Ray for the submissive, punishment craving type, but then again that may have been because Ray wasn’t accustomed to failure. Yet here he stood, in nothing but his boxers, his fingers gently probing Ryan’s wounds, his head bowed in submission; he looked delicious, his skin smooth and tanned, his eyes dark with guilt and unshed tears.

“Please, Ryan.” 

Ryan stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup Ray’s cheek and raise his chin until their eyes met again, “What do you want me to do, Ray?”

“I- I fucked up, Ry. I need to be punished.” Ray’s voice wasn't much above a whisper and Ryan’s heart pounded at the younger man’s words.

“It’s been a while since I’ve punished someone, Ray.” Ryan lowered his voice to match Ray’s, leaning closer until his breath ghosted against Ray’s face, “You’ll have to be a little more specific as to what you’re prepared to deal with.”

A deep blush rose up Ray’s neck to kiss the tips of his ears as he spoke, flags of colour forming high on his cheeks, “Spank me?” He paused for a second before adding in a rush, “Or- or anything you want, I don’t mind.”

Ryan chuckled softly, nodding. He pushed Ray back gently before gesturing for him to climb onto the bed, “On your knees.”

Ray shivered before complying, his exposed skin covered with goosebumps as visible proof of how much Ryan’s voice, his orders, affected him. Kneeling on his own bed, with Ryan stood above him, he couldn’t help but become slightly aroused at the prospect of what was to come; sure, he had fucked up, and the idea of it ate at him, but Ryan was about to put it right and he was more than happy with that. 

“How badly do you want it, Ray.” Ryan’s voice was deep and sultry, and though this was only a punishment, Ray’s heart pounded, “How much do you think you deserve?”

Ray keened but could not talk, instead burying his face into his crossed arms as he waited for the inevitable sting of Ryan’s palm against his skin. When it did not come he lifted his head to look at the man kneeling on the bed beside him. He struck an imposing figure, even shirtless and weaponless, and Ray’s breath caught in his throat.

“If you don’t answer me I’m just going to go until I feel like stopping… which might take a while.”

Ray nodded his assent before clearing his throat, “That’s okay with me.” His voice was quiet but Ryan heard him clearly, a rush of blood heading south as the words truly registered. 

He leaned close then, lips almost brushing Ray’s ear, “Are you ready?” A small nod was all the response he got but he was perfectly fine with that, there was just one formality to get out of the way before he truly began, “If you really want me to stop , you’ll need a safe word — because trust me, saying stop won’t work. What’s yours?”

“Roses.” Ray’s voice was clear for the first time since Ryan had entered his room, knowing the importance of making sure that Ryan understood his safe word clearly lest he actually have to use it.

Ryan nodded his understanding before fingering the hem of Ray’s boxers and pulling them down swiftly until they rested around Ray’s knees, restricting him ever so slightly in the case that he decided to start squirming. The first hit made Ray gasp, the sharp sting of Ryan’s palm against the soft skin of his backside sending shock of pain and pleasure through his entire body. From that point slaps rained down until Ray could no longer stay on his knees, forced to collapse to the bed gasping, tears streaming down his cheeks. Giving Ray a short break, Ryan hauled him up before resting him over his own folded knees, running his palm gently against the raw skin of the smaller man’s backside; he had not yet broken the skin, and judging by the state Ray was in he would not, but he wasn’t done yet either.

“You feeling okay, pup?” Ray keened softly at Ryan’s words, barely registering the pet name in his hazy state. Despite Ray drifting Ryan was confident that it wasn't a bad thing, a theory confirmed by the hard cock pressed against his jeans. Ray whimpered at the feel of denim beneath him and struggled to hold back his pleased moans as Ryan shifted ever so slightly.

“Ry, stop.” Ray attempted to squirm away to no avail as Ryan’s arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him close, lifting him until his chest was pressed to Ray’s back. His hand wrapped around the smaller man’s cock quickly, putting an end to all protest on Ray’s part, instead causing a litany of moans to pour past his lips.

“You’ve been so good, Ray. You’ve taken my punishment so well.” His lips ghosted against Ray’s neck, nipping gently at the skin, “It wouldn’t be fair for me to just leave you all pent up like this.”

Feeling Ryan’s hard chest buzzing against his back with praise in combination with the warm callused hand lavishing pleasure to his neglected cock cause Ray to come faster than he ever had before, giving a muffled cry of warning before covering himself and Ryan’s hand with his sticky seed. Boneless and wrung out from the combination of Ryan’s punishment and his own release, Ray collapsed back into his friend, heart pounding and breath rushing past his lips. Once he had calmed enough to fully take in the sensations wracking his body his eyes began to water, the pain from his backside much stronger than he had ever felt before, but beneath all of that he felt sated.

“Thank you, Ryan.” He breathed softly, leaning back to rub his face against the taller man’s.

“No problem. You did well, pup.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always this shit was unbeta'd, so if you'd like to volunteer your services to beta this junk then get in touch with me at [sparkeyscene.tumblr.com.](https://sparkeyscene.tumblr.com)


End file.
